chinese apparel

I wrote this a while ago and forgot to post it. Just file it away under Strange Retail Experiences Are Things Best Forgotten.

When I first arrived in Beijing, I was agog to find that there was, of all things, an American Apparel store in this fair city.

I was agog not because I would ever underestimate Dov Charney’s plans for evil world domination, but because the central thesis of American Apparel is thus
a.) irony
b.) sex

The Napoleon of creepiness and leggings.

Suffice it to say that these things are not the central thesis of Chinese culture. In fact, they are kind of counter-intuitive to most facets of Chinese culture.

I decided to investigate:

It was all there. So strange, so florescent, so tight! The body stockings and sweatshirts and the vaguely bitchy salespeople and the dressing room mirrors that make anyone feel like the fattest, most repulsive person on the planet!
It was all there except…customers.

So, your average hipster Americano heads over the AA on North 6th and picks up a little number that says I lack imagination, but I can still earn the respect of my peers by appropriating the aesthetics of working class America to fit my svelte frame and obliterated gaze.

As far as I can tell, when a hipster Chinoise walks into AA, they possibly think: OOH! Gold leggings! I will wear these to work, which by the way is a respectable job and not stripping. WAIT, 600 KUAI FOR LEGGINGS WTF I THINK NOT.

This entry was written by maya, posted on October 12, 2009 at 9:32 am, filed under chinese, style and tagged american apparel, wtf. Bookmark the permalink. Follow any comments here with the RSS feed for this post.